Pretty woman isn't she? Particulalry for being 70+! That's my mother-in-law, who passed away this last Saturday. Her name was Evelyn, but we all called her Ginger.


This green plant doesn't care.
It just keeps growing, taking out
the carbon and converting it
for me to breathe.
The gnat(what's that damn gnat doing here?)
doesn't care.
Nor the Rhodie outside, or the deer
(damn deer! stay out of the garden!)
or the neighbor that feeds them.
He doesn't even know the story of Ginger.
Nor do most the people in my
village by the sea.
But I've read the story now
for several decades, and have
been warmed, encouraged,
angered, and pleased by this character.

The story is over now.
I have flipped the last page,
closed the cover.
I will miss this character.
Having been a major sub-character
in this story,
there is naught I can do but reflect.

She may live on in her daughter,
but there will be no sequel.

Proud Papa

I'll have to add a photo of Taylor later, but since my hard drive is being fixed, I am doing this post from the library, on a computer that doesn't have my pictures. Which of course has nothing to do with my subject....

Taylor is my oldest boy. He has recently been attempting to generate his own business doing gardening and yard work. It has been fun listening to him as he learns different plants, which sometimes means taking a picture and visiting the local nursery. But he's learning. The work lately has been spotty, and with winter coming on, he decided that he needed a full time job. Also, because he moved a bit north and has no vehicle, his south end clients lost his services. But I got to hear what every parent loves to hear about their child: a compliment from another person.

Now Taylor has done some work around our house to help his Mom get the gardens in order. So I know he does good work. But we heard a neighbor who has had other gardeners work on her place that it never looks as good as when Taylor does the work, and she would really like to have him come back.

Getting a full time job will basically mean that this woman will be his one "weekend" client. But when the chips were down for Taylor, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and be responsible. He's out on his own, and learning to live as the master of his own fate. I remember those days. I'm still trying to figure out though just what has been mastered....

Miles surprised us the other day and came in and cooked us a meal. Miles as you may recall is a chef, and that's him in the photo above. Actually, he disowns the term "chef." To him it denotes a journeyman status he doesn't feel he's achieved yet. Right now he works a corporate restaurant in Edmonds, sometimes doing 1000 to 1200 meals on the weekend nights. Per night. So he's learned the ropes around banging out numbers of meals of quality dining. But like most chefs, uh, cooks, he wants the quality, the creativity a smaller kitchen affords, and so he has moved on. And we got a taste of how much his skill has grown.

Now perhaps this meal was a menu item somewhere. But I don't think so. Our appetizer was a cracker spread with a goat/cow cheese/truffle blend, topped with Serrano ham and caramelized onion and sprinkled with fresh thyme. That was accompanied with a bottle of Syrah. Dinner was baked fingerling potatoes and stuffed red pepper sections. The stuffing was spaghetti squash, portabella mushroom, and mozzarella cheese an\again sprinkled with thyme. That was accompanied with a delicious Owen Roe Chardonnay. Desert was vanilla ice cream topped with a sauteed pear/banana compote and a sauce made of blackberry cordial (the berries were from our area and Jody made the cordial) which Miles reduced and then added cream and butter, and once again, lightly sprinkled with thyme. Yes, thyme on ice cream. It worked.

Miles knew how all these flavors worked together, and I quite forget where he used the truffle oil. But the cooking times for perfect consistency, and flavor mixing were well beyond my imagination, and yet with no recipes but what was in his head, he threw this together. Wow.

It is encouraging to see these young sons of mine, these young men, get a hold of careers, relationships That's Miles and his girl friend), and life in general. As a parent, it naturally scares and saddens me to see them moving away. (?! yea, yea, I know...) I guess I'm like every parent in that regard.

And on the other hand, I couldn't be prouder of both of them.

Catch of the Day!

This was the first! I got myself a license, and some new equipment and took advantage of what Whidbey Island has to offer. What I'm holding there is a "humpie," or a Pink Salmon. I also caught another larger humpie, and a Coho Salmon that was the biggest. Yummy!

I haven't fished in almost ten years, and I've lived here on Whidbey for five of those years. The fishing here is highly regulated. it isn't like you buy the license (a small piece of paper) which you pop into your wallet, some equipment, and hit a lake until such and such a date. Oh no. Here you get several pages of what seems like cash register receipt paper, and on it you need to record what kind of fish you caught, in what zone you caught it, and whether or not it was a wild or hatchery fish. If perchance the game warden came by and your shore count didn't match your records, the fine is more than the equipment, license and value of the fish combined a couple times over.

Anyway, this co-worker of my wife is quite avid at fishing, and quite good. He's been offering for a long time, so I had some extra moola from a project I was doing, and dropped some on a license and new rod, line, and the salmon's favorite bait: Buzz Bombs.

There are at least six species of salmon out here: Coho(aka Silver), Pink(aka Humpie), Chinook(aka King), Sockeye, Steelhead(actually a trout), and Chum(aka Dog). Apparently they all have their favorite Buzz Bomb. The Pink strike the pink Buzz Bomb. The Orange and Yellow Buzz is the favorite of the Silver, and they hit it hard and fast. Then there is a Buzz that is white and green as I recall, and the guy next to me, who was a local homeowner who's yard we were in, caught and released two King's on it. He was the only person using one, and the only person who hooked Kings. All the other catches followed the "rules" above almost as if they were rules.

So I learned what stuff to buy, besides the Buzz Bombs, how to rig a line, how fast to reel the particular lure in, how to identify the different species (thanks Bob!), how to kill a catch without crushing it's skull, and how to later filet it efficiently. Turns out my walleye filet knife was a tad too small for the Silver I caught. I need to upgrade. But my freshwater stringer proved handy.

Here's the days haul actually. The bigger one is the Silver. This is just prior to the cleaning.

It's actually a great time. Salt water fishing is a bit different, but you get to get outside and experience the world around you. Mind you, I'm looking at the Olympic Mountains, the Puget Sound, the vast bird life that exists around here, and the seals that use these same hunting grounds. So even if you don't catch anything, you get to be out and learn how the water is moving while absorbing the view. And, the anticipation of a hit on your line is a bit of a rush.

There is a lot to be said about the quiet of being in a boat in the middle of a quiet lake though. The Puget Sound isn't quiet. We were on the shipping channel side, so we had a couple container vessels go by, and being that the fog was still hanging in the middle of the channel, the sounds of their foghorns. We also have the Victoria Clipper boats that cruise between Seattle and Victoria Island, Canada. They use a water propulsion system which allows for higher speeds and a lot more noise. And then of course, after a ship goes by, the wake comes ashore, and is no gentle wave. Bit it's still fresh air, and the wonder of all that goes on here; the shipping, the seals fishing, the birds doing their thing, the different water currents and their contents, and us fishing. Just a couple guys learning a little more of their world around them in the hopes of hooking part of it for a meal they can share with their friends and families.

So I'm pumped now. There are a couple lakes around here that we'll hit for the fall trout, we'll go back for more humpies and silvers, and then there is a steelhead run in the fall, and a chum run. That might set me in fish for the year. But I look at it this way. For the investment of money in the equipment and license, it's worth it. I spent roughly $100 this go around. I caught about 12 to 15 lbs. of salmon. Go price that out and you'll see that the cost is almost saved in my first trip. Plus I have the experience of learning , and spending the time to prepare my own meal. I think everyone should do that just for the sake of doing it. It gets you to realize a couple things.

First, what it was like for those without refrigerators and volume farming. Every day was an expenditure of time to take care of soil and crops and animals, or being in the hunt for them, to put food on the table. It brings to mind the advantages of our type of culture, and the disadvantages. Second, it teaches you how to exist on your own. I am now capable, by the sweat of my own brow, of putting food on the table and heat in the fire place. Meaning of course, I use wood to heat by. There is a certain sense of satisfaction knowing I can do that, whether I choose to do that or not. If I had to, I could.

And last but not least, I have a friend with whom I can go out and just spend time throwing a small piece of lead into the salt water. Maybe next time the odds won't be in my favor. Or the moon will be out of Jupiter and into Moorlock, and my biofeedback chart states I'm off balance, or my chi will be all jazzballed. Who cares. I get a little bit of both cultures, in that I can spend time with a friend enjoying the outdoors, and if I catch nothing than I can have spaghetti for dinner.

Either way, it's a great time.

History In My Pocket

For Mother's day I decide this year to add another installment to my own Little Brown Pennies poem which I first composed for the mother of my sons many years ago. I put together a picture of each boy, a poem, and then a penny of their birth year. Then when they were both grown, I repeated the exercise, and this time added a quarter of their birth years, indcating the growqth of their years, and return on her invetment in their lives.

I thought I would do it again, and rifled through my pockets looking for dollar bills that might have a series of the needed years, but no luck. You know what I did find though?

A 1939 Jefferson nickel. The picture is the exact nickel, but I need to be a bit stiller than I could mange. You get the idea.

Here is a nickel older than I am. It was minted before the Second World War. I showed it to my oldest boy, and he asked, "I wonder how many pockets it's been in?" Isn't that a great thought?

When I consider it, that nickel has been touched by those at the mint (the Philadelphia mint), and that involves several departments.

First it needs to be stamped. Since I feel more research screaming to be followed, I will surmise that there were probably several rows of stamping machines in their own area. Extrapolating from my previous manufacturing experiences, the stamped blank was then loaded onto a cart with many others, and then taken to the furnaces for annealing. A possible caveat: the '39 might be the last of the all silver nickels, so maybe it wasn't annealed. Usually after annealing, a blank is washed and dried. Then the blank is loaded by someone else onto a cart and delivered to another area to be run through a machine that creates the raised edge on the coin. So at least three different people have touched my nickel already. Then it is edged, reloaded onto a cart and moved to the imaging area. Four different people! What are their stories? Do they talk about the Great Depression? The uproar in Europe? The sporting events of the times? Did they eat Philly Steak and Cheeses sandwiches for lunch? In the imaging area it becomes currency when the obverse(heads), reverse(tails), and mint mark are pressed into the blank. Then it moves into the inspection area, and if it passes the inspection, it is bagged and counted, and readied for shipping to the local Treasury branch for into the economy through the local bank system.

So after the four, the inspector, and bagger/counter have touched that coin. That's in my opinion a matter of at least seven different people before it is transferred from the Mint to the Treasury. And this all happened 68 years ago!

This coin survived the subsequent World, Korean, Viet Nam, Baltic and Middle East conflicts, not to mention the actions in Panama and Grenada. It also was a part of the incredible growth of the middle class in America when taxes and wages were high, creating the likes of which has been subsequently eroded. My nickel has seen all that.

So how many pockets has that nickel seen? Let's suppose that I save my change, which I do. I use it to buy books. When I realize I have a couple pounds of steel in my pocket, I cull out a dollar worth and put the rest aside. When I hit around $30 I buy a book I want. So it came from a previous owner to me. Then it will hit the bookstore. Then let's suppose it is offered as change to someone who does what I do. It then would make a least four to five different pockets in a year. Multiplied by 68 years, and that's 272 different pockets by incredibly conservative numbers. The reality is more likely twice that many, if not many more. Over 68 years, possibly 544 different people handled the nickel I now hold in my hand. Considering that the average life span of a coin is 25 years, I'd say that it was "saved" several times at least. Was it once an aspiring fortune, spent on a comic book by a boy named Stan Lee?

Has it been bet on the ponies? Bought a beer at a local Phillie watering hole? Flipped in a bet? Used at the Five and Dime? Was it ever part of the purchase of a ticket to see a baseball game? How many times was it used to buy food? Books?

I'm going to have a gas working on this project! First step, the Philadelphia Mint....

A Sad Day

As most of you know, a gunman in West Virginia killed thirty two people, and then he was killed. I even yet to hear the details. But I know it will raise the hackles of the gun control crowd, and the gun lobby, which seems to want to arm everybody.

Mind you, I'm all for the Second Amendment. I'm also for mandatory service right out of high school, for two years in the state national guard unit, and then a third year in the Peace Corps. After that third year, you can opt to keep your military issued long rifle and side arm. Then you are in the reserves automatically, fulfilling both aspects of the Second Amendment. But you are also given the rest of your education free. All the way through PhD if you can do it, or want to.

But what would be wrong with closing the loopholes that make it possible to buy guns at shows without any checking of anything? Here in Washington, we had a boyfriend with a restraining order shoot his girl friend to death. Once the restraining order was filed, there should have been a gun owner flag that went up, and alerted authorities to a possibly higher degree of danger from this fellow.

it's too late for that.

So what would be wrong with even a month long waiting period for a weapon purchase? criminal background, mental health, current legal standing? It might even serve as a cooling off period. The gun would still be purchased, and what's the hurry in a gun purchase anyway? And that is pretty much what gun control is about anyway. The fringe that likes folk to think it means gun confiscation are lying. Yea, a world without any weapons of any kind would be great. But we aren't there yet. And our Constitution allows for gun ownership, albeit relatively. So what really is the argument from the gun lobby?

If the cost of unfettered gun ownership is what our country experienced today, than the cost is too high.

Yes, it's True.

We have been here this long already. As the Certificate, and accompanying pin (already on my uniform) attests, five years is the magic number. It will officially be this December that I will have completed the five years, but the Award Ceremony is in March. We actually were feet on the island in August. Five years already.

And yes, it's true that I am Firefighter of the Year. Great likeness isn't it? That's my non-existent brother Hank, whose likeness adorns several thousand of these plaques. Everyone must like him. After me, you will never see another FFOTY from Station 39, as we are being changed to Station 34. Well, actually that change occurred on the 19th, but our on-scene accountability system includes helmet patches which still haven't been replaced, nor the Engine designation placard. Those are signs of a tight budget me-thinks.

So will I go after the first FFOTY at 34? Do I defend my "title?" Maybe. What I'm really aiming at is a rank promotion, and that in light of the time table revolving around the new station building which will happen in a bout 2 years. In the meantime, our current Captain is retiring, so a former Battalion Chief will resume his place. However, the former Battalion Chief will be retiring in about a year and a half, from work and the fire service according to him. So I nudged my Lieutenant, and told here she had a year and a half to make the jump to first female Captain. Which of course leaves the vacancy of her position....

So what's involved in this honor? Well, it's a lot more than just showing up. It involves attitude, being teachable, able to communicate , input, responding to calls, making the right decisions at calls, knowing the equipment, and attending drills. And in my case apparently, always being willing to jump into a political conversation. We have a great mix of folk out here, and it's pretty rare actually. I think most of it might be prompted by my letters to the editor.

It was a lot of hard work, and my wife Jody pays the highest price. To her I owe the greatest thanks for being so gracious and accommodating. Captain Enslow and Lt. Parker are constant sources of encouragement, and tweakers of performance to get it even better. And rightfully so, to all the medics, fire fighters, and instructors along the way, this award is a reflection of all the work they have invested in me. Island County Fire District 3 is an exceptional organization that I am proud to belong to.

The Famous Bayview

This is where Jody works. The red building is the farm store, and the white buildings are the garden store, where she functions as the assistant manager. The rest of the nursery extends to the right of the photo, and it is a stitched photo, so i could lay out the whole panorama on the desktop, but it won't work here.

Basically, it's an equal right angle, and about a third of the red barn is missing from the photo. It's as deep behind the garden store.

What makes this place so incredible is not only the organic emphasis, but the staff. Between them, they have oodles of degrees, and they stay current in their field. So the information about plants is up-to-date and thorough. And they are great people to boot.

Maureen owns the business. A wonderful woman whose spirit is way beyond her diminutive size. She's a good boss, and has become a good friend as well. Eric runs the yard. For a good time, yell out "Hey, yard boy!" He loves it. I met him before Jody worked there when I took a leaf to him, and asked what it was. Turns out it was a Mimosa, and it's a beautiful tree right in front of the Island Coffee House in Langley. The farmer that runs the farm store is Miranda. Always quick with a phrase, she knows her farm stuff. Duke is a part timer in the farm store on the weekends. Jody's direct boss is the living embodiment of Betsy Boop. Elly, Steve, the other Jody, Brian and a host of part timers and new seasonal folk fill out the cast at Bayview.

Part of the wonder of the place is the the corner it's located in. You can see a roof above the garden stores that runs perpendicular to the garden store. That's the roof of the Bayview Center, which is across the parking lot from the Bayview Corner, directly behind the farm store barn. The Center hosts many events from concerts to the Unitarian services on Sunday. The Corner hosts the Three Cat's Cafe, a cozy little place. The Fishmonger is also there, and it's a wonderful place for fresh sea food, and on a couple Saturday nights a month, a Seattle sushi chef comes over for Sushi Saturday Nights at the Fishmonger.

The Star Store of Langley has a satellite store at the Bayview Corner, and there is also the Hub, a bicycle shop. There is also an art supply store, a beauty shop, and the offices of the The Record, the south end newspaper. Upstairs is the front Room, that hosts dances and art exhibits among other events.

It's a busy place. Lot's of people, and of course that's the perfect environment for Jody, because she may not be political, or religious, but she is a people person above all. And believe it or not, that all makes sense, and in truth, the only sense.

This is where Jody works, and where a portion of this small part of the world we inhabit, are fortunate enough to meet her.

Here we are at Christmas time! Miles, Jody(in her new robe, and Taylor. I'm not certain what the image on the TV is.

Yikes! This is what it looks like today on my back porch. The temp is below freezing for the second day in a row, and that is very rare here. So is the snow. Yet this year we have had two falls of this quantity.

Not that it matters much. By Monday this will all be gone, as it will get near or into the 40s again, and the snow and ice on the roads will all be memories.

It's been an unusual winter this year. We've had four power outages already, and two of them were lengthy. One was four days long. That is a first in our time here. And we still have a month and a half left of what we consider the windy months! Yikes again!

So the plants have found their way into our dining area, in the hopes that the cold hasn't already killed them. The fire is going, in hopes of forcing the thermostat to stay off for a while, and keep our house toasty. Otherwise we stay off the treacherous roads, and wait things out.